Drink, Drank, Drunk
by msjgatsby
Summary: Every ten minutes, Mike takes a shot.
1. Drink

Author's Note: I've been so busy recently I haven't even seen the new episode the whole way through. I also haven't had time to edit this so go easy on me. Quick 3 chapter story. *fingers crossed* it will be done before the next episode airs.

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Paige is exhausted as she parks her car and walks up the stairs to the safety of Graceland. She can almost hear her sweat pants calling to her from inside. She was supposed to meet up with Kyle for a late dinner tonight, but she has already texted him to cancel. After chasing down a mobster for eight blocks in six inch stripper heels and tackling him to the ground, she just wants to take a shower and lie on the couch watching some bad tv.

The second she enters opens the doors of Graceland she is not filled with a sense of peace, but tension as she hears the shouting and crashing noises from within. Once again, Paige is automatically thrust back into action mode. Her adrenaline spikes and she runs into the living room to see what is going on, worried there's an intruder.

There are no new faces in the room, but all of the residents of Graceland are so angry, screaming at each other and pushing that they are almost unrecognizable. The only pattern Paige can detect is that most of the anger seems directed at Mike, though he seems equally pissed at the others. Briggs is in the middle of it all, trying to keep the violence from elevating. Charlie is yelling at everyone from the sidelines to calm down. Bates just looks rather helpless and not sure of what to do. Both Jakes and Johnny seem to be on the same side for once, ready to rip Mike in half. Mike is just as angry, standing his ground and screaming and shove back, not seeming at all concerned that he's about to get his ass kicked.

Paige can't quite tell from all the shouting what the fight is about, but she knows it's crossed a line when she hears Mike's voice above the ruckus scream, "...You're just a child Johnny! An overgrown puppy! And it's fine when there's someone to hold your leash, but seeing as the only two responsible adults in the house are off in lala land, either fucking or shooting up heroin or god knows what..."

"Hey you crossed the line. Back down young man!" Briggs turns around to face Mike, completely letting go of Johnny who takes the opportunity to launch towards Mike, and his fists catches him in the jaw. Briggs immediately tries to stop the two, but the three of them end up all in a blur of screaming and punches. The other men all join in, and it's hard to tell who's fighting who, but things are getting out of hand.

"Hey! HEY!" Paige throws herself directly into the fray, not at all intimidated by the fact that the men in the fight all outweigh her by at least 100 lbs. She grabs Mike and pulls him back, as Briggs and Charlie hold Jakes back and Bates gets control of Johnny.

All of the men seem crazed with anger, and Mike is no exception. However, somewhere in the back of his mind Mike realizes it's Paige who is grabbing him and he finds just enough restraint not to flail out and hurt her, but he still holds his body stiff, straining to fly into action at the slightest provocation.

"What the hell is going on?" Paige demands.

Everyone starts yelling at the same time, making it impossible for Paige to hear over the screaming. What she does hear is Charlie yelling over all the men, "Paige, get him the hell out of here!"

Paige who still has a hold of Mike, pulls him back out the doors of Graceland shoving him towards the car. Once outside in the parking lot she lets him go, and he glares back towards the house, his hands balled into fists at his side.

"Get in!" She barks.

"I didn't-" Mike starts to argue, but Paige cuts him off.

"I don't want to hear it, Mike. Get in the damn car." Paige gets back into the drivers seat herself and slams the door, fuming as she waits for him to join her.

This is not how Paige wanted her evening to go. She knows that all hopes of rest and sweatpants are out the window now that she has to babysit Mike. She has to keep him away from the house long enough for everyone to calm down, and based off the fight she just saw, it will take all night.

She does not know how she got stuck with being the babysitter. Since Mike's come back to Graceland from DC, he has been so uptight and obnoxious that she seems to be the only one in the house that can stand to be around him.

When she gets him one on one he's not that bad. Paige knows all the nagging comes from a good place. Mike wants to do good, wants to prove himself, and he's a bit of a perfectionist. She can relate to those motivations, it's just sometimes he takes it too far. Still, Paige is pissed as hell she did not get to change clothes, and that she is still working off the clock.

"Where are we going?" Mike finally asks gruffly after five minutes of dead silence in the car.

"To get drunk." Paige says simply.

"Of course." Mike scoffs, and Paige bristles at the condemnation in his voice.

"Listen you judgmental prick. I can drive this car straight to the airport and send you back to DC with your balls in your carryon, or you can quit being a pompous shit, suck it up and stop judging everyone. Then maybe, you can actually do what you came out here to do." Paige's hands tighten around the steering wheel in frustration. She knows there's a good guy under all of that bravado but Jesus does Mike make it difficult to remember sometimes.

"Sorry." Mike says shortly, but Paige can feel him rolling his eyes as he says it.

"You want to be a rockstar again? Fine. But all that ego you've got going on now? You need to lose it. Because whatever you may have accomplished out here before, you didn't get there on your own. You can't just use us to get to DC and then come back here and treat us all like we're beneath you."

"I don't think you're beneath me. It's just the level of professionalism-" Mike starts to argue, but Paige cuts him off.

"What we do is different. You want to play by the book? Go back to pushing papers in DC. You want to be exceptional, shut the fuck up and listen. Tonight is not about fun. It's going to be work." Paige says, as she parks the car, unbuckles her seatbelt and exits the car not even waiting to see if Mike will follow her into the shady dive bar on the very edge of town where she's parked.

She feels all the eyes on her as she enters the bar, and it only adds to her frustration. In her short black dress and high heel red "fuck me" shoes, she is standing out in all the wrong ways among the tough crowd. Luckily she's so pissed off as she walks in, that no one dares approach her. Her body language alone tells the world she does not want to be fucked with.

She takes a seat at the edge of the bar, and doesn't even look over as Mike sits sheepishly beside her. He's on high alert taking in all his surroundings. With his clean cut looks and neatly ironed oxford blue shirt, he may stand out almost as much as Paige does. She orders two beers and several shots. When the bartender asks if she wants to open a tab, she informs her it will be on Mike's credit card and to leave the card open. Mike looks over frustrated at her for this, but begrudgingly hands over his card.

The bartender leaves them their drinks, and only then does Paige address Mike.

"Take this shot." Paige orders. Mike rolls his eyes, but knows he's in trouble, so he downs the shot. "Good, now take another."

"I'm fine." Mike says, giving her an annoyed look. "I'm not really in a partying mood tonight."

"This isn't partying. This is training. You aren't at your desk anymore. You need to build up your tolerance. You think you know everything, but what are you going to do when you need to drink a suspect under the table. You need to build up your tolerance and learn the tricks. Now take the damn shot." Paige growls in a frustrated voice.

"Ok, now take off your shirt." Paige holds out her hand expectantly.

"You're joking." Mike stares at Paige, but the glare that she gives him tells Mike she is definitely not kidding.

"Is this part of the training too?" He grumbles as he begins to resentfully unbutton his shirt. "Or is this some type of punishment."

"No, this is because I didn't get a chance to change when I got home, and I'm tired of every man in this bar staring at me like he's going to fuck me. So you're going to give me your shirt. Now."

Mike scoffs but finishes unbuttoning his blue oxford shirt, and begrudgingly hands it over to Paige, leaving him in just his undershirt with jeans. In the california dive bar, he fits right in. Paige puts on his shirt over her short tight black dress, leaving it open like a jacket, and rolls the sleeves up to her elbows. She pulls her long blonde hair up into a haphazard bun, securing it with a pen. She sighs a little in relief and looks down unhappily at the stilettos on her feet. "You're lucky we don't wear the same size, or you'd be giving me your shoes too."

"It wouldn't make a difference. Every single guy in this bar would still want to fuck you." Mike says bluntly. All the eyes on her piss him off, and Mike chugs his beer as he tries to ignore it. He's still angry and looking for a fight. If a single guy so much as touches her, he will beat that bastard into a pulp.

"Hey, none of that. Calm down. Drink this." Paige notices Mike scanning the room looking for a fight, and she is not breaking up another fight today. She slams the third shot in front of him.

"I'm still drinking my beer. Do you want to kill me?" Mike complains.

"You need to learn how to do this." Paige insists, slamming back a shot herself. "Drink."

"Paige…" Mike begins to protest.

"Don't be just a sissy. Just shut up and drink. I heard about what happened when you were under with those bangers the other night. You were acting too boyscout and they didn't want to deal with you. You need to get people's trust, and in order to do that you have to let them feel like you're guard is down even when it's not. Now prepare yourself, because every ten minutes we're going to do a shot until one of us is on the floor. Fair warning, it won't be me."

Mike is embarrassed Paige heard about him screwing up that meet. He doesn't think the way it was all pinned on him is fair though. He doesn't want to end up Charlie and start shooting up heroin in order to get street cred. Still, Paige doesn't seem to be judging him, just cutting through the bullshit and stating the facts. He knows she's trying to help, and even though she seems pissed at him. No matter how far he pushes her, somehow she's always on his side even if she needs to forcibly push him in the right direction.

Accepting this for what it is, Mike reaches out and takes the shot.


	2. Drank

Author's Note: I love when the show comes back on. I get so many more readers. Thanks for the follows, favorites, pm's and reviews!

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"So what was that in the living room? You seemed really pissed off."

Paige only asks the question after Mike is well liquored up, looking more relaxed on his bar stool. She wants to make sure she doesn't upset him again, so she's waited to ask until she sees the slight slump of his shoulders and his eyelids begin to appear heavy.

"Johnny's an idiot." Mike grumbles dismissively, taking another swig of his beer.

"Well obviously, but what did he do this time?" Paige grins as she watches the attractive agent beside her. There's something endearing about seeing Mike in such a relaxed state. He's usually so alert and uptight, that seeing him leaning casually against the bar, with his guard down, is a rare sight.

"They completely emptied out my bedroom and moved all my stuff up to the roof." Mike finally mumbles into his bottle, sounding embarrassed.

Paige laughs so hard she accidentally snorts her beer through her nose. Mike shoots her a dirty look as she tries to recover and give the proper look of sympathy, but she can't. Paige finds the prank ingenious. She knows Johnny couldn't have pulled it off by himself, and wonders if the whole house was in on it. She can just imagine Mike's furniture and all his belongings carefully placed to perfectly mirror the downstairs set up. It must have taken them hours.

"It's not funny!" Mike scolds, as she nearly falls off her bar seat with laughter. However, even Mike can't keep the embarrassed smirk off his face as she laughs at him. Here at the bar with Paige, all the anger he felt earlier seems to have disappeared.

"No, it's not funny. It's hilarious." Paige can barely get the words out through her laughter.

"I had confidential files in there! What if something had happened to them?" Mike whines.

"You brought all that stuff back in I assume." Paige wipes tears away from her still twinkling eyes.

"Well yeah, I got most of the important files back in, but I couldn't move the furniture. It's still up there." Mike admits. "I had to fight a seagull for my underwear."

This information just makes Paige laugh harder. When she finally is able to breath again, she takes a long sip of her beer to recover. Mike continues sipping his drink next to her, trying to keep a sheepish grin off his face, and watching the way her cheeks have turned red from laughter.

"So you got pranked. So what? No one got hurt. You've been being a douche recently. You deserved it, and a year ago you would have laughed about it." Paige says simply. If she had been home, she would have joined in the prank. Hell, she probably would have insisted they superglue everything he had together, as well as put it on the roof.

"It's not just that." Mike insists.

"Then what?" Paige presses.

"Things have changed."

"Things do. What changes in particular have your panties in a twist?"

"It's not just one thing, Paige. It's everything." Mike sighs in frustration. He had certain expectations coming back to Graceland, but like everything in Mike's life, reality was not lining up with his vision.

"...And you're upset because you had a perfect memory that couldn't change, and you came back to find that wasn't real?" Paige asks quietly. Mike turns to stare at her, in shock. Sometimes he swears that girl can read his mind. No one has ever understood him quite like her.

"No, I mean… I knew things would be different when I came back, I just thought… Just everything is so wrong." Mike is flustered at how close to the truth Paige's answer is.

"Give me an example."

"Fine!" Mike says with drunken frustration the first thing that comes to mind. "You want example? How about Charlie's sleeping with Briggs."

"Oh please! You do not get the moral high ground here. It's not like you've never kissed a roommate before." Paige laughs at how offended Mike sounds by something that is none of his business. Sure, she doesn't like the fact that Charlie and Briggs are sleeping together, and will factor it into her decision making, but as long as it doesn't effect her cases or the house, she doesn't care.

"That was different!" Mike insists, blushing at the memory of their only kiss.

"How?!" Paige does not see any difference between the two situations. Mike's being a hypocrite.

_It was you_, is what Mike almost says, but instead he justifies, "I thought Graceland was burned. We weren't going to be roommates much longer."

"Oh whatever. You didn't care about the rules. You brought Abby upstairs and-"

"That's another thing!" Mike cuts her off.

"What?"

"You gave me so much shit about not getting too close, and now you've got a boyfriend who if you were any closer to, you'd be conjoined twins." Mike calls Paige out on her own hypocrisy.

"Well that would make the sex more challenging." Paige just says dryly, staring ahead at the tv in the corner.

Mike winces at the thought of Paige sleeping with someone else. He knew obviously that she had a lover. Her strolling in at eleven each morning with her heels in hand, didn't leave much room for doubt, but Mike still liked to live in denial. He slams down the next shot without any instruction from her.

"Do you need a challenge? Is he boring you in the sack?" Mike asks, and dear god why did he say that? He doesn't want to hear about Paige's sex life. How drunk is he?

"Drink your beer." Paige says with a sly smirk. She obviously has slightly more control over what she says at this point than Mike.

"I take your silence as an omission." Mike's words are already starting to slur and he's not quite sure he used the right word there. Paige notices, but chooses not to correct him.

"Hey, tonight's not about me. Tonight we're talking about you." Paige's voice doesn't show the slightest sign of slurring and her eyes are tired but focused.

"Fine, we'll talk about me, just as soon as you admit you're bored with him." Mike challenges her.

"I'm not bored." She says simply, but avoids eye contact as she tries to get the bartender's attention for another round.

"You were supposed to be on a date tonight, and yet here you are with me. Just be honest. Be honest with me at least, because I know you're not honest with him."

"You want to talk honesty, Mike?" Paige retorts, getting frustrated. "How's your boss coping without you in DC? Does she miss her little pet? Because yes, Kyle is a civilian and maybe I can't tell him things, but at least I'm not fucking my way to the top!"

"How did you..?" Mike was not expecting that turn. The sudden shock, the venom behind her words, feels like she just slapped him.

"Yes, I know all about you mixing work with pleasure. So don't go judging me, or Charlie or Briggs or anyone in this house for what we need to do to cope with the loneliness. We're not perfect, but neither are you." Paige says harshly.

Mike sits silent after her scolding. He didn't know Paige knew about Jessica, his boss and lover who was still in DC. She was right. He didn't have any right to get so upset about the idea of Paige dating, but he was. Staring at her where she sits silently drinking, watching the tv in the corner, he is overcome with shame at her scolding. She is the only person he has left on his side in Graceland. He can't push her away too.

He glances over to her and takes a deep breath, preparing to apologize, but she cuts him off before he can say anything.

"Ok. That's ten minutes. Shot." Paige says, glancing down at her watch and both agents throw back another shot.

Mike feels the liquid burning down his throat, actually happy for the distraction. Paige seems to sip the whisky in her glass like it's water.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an errant basketball from a drunken game of hoops in the corner comes flying in their direction. Before it causes any damage, Paige catches it one handed, without spilling her drink. She tosses the small ball back to the men, who clearly did that just to get her attention, and gives them a warning look. They turn away quickly and Paige goes back to casually watching the tv while she waits for the next ten minutes to pass in silence. She clearly is still upset with Mike.

"How are you still sober?" Mike asks, staring at her dumbstruck. He feels like he might fall over just sitting here, and she hasn't shown the slightest sign of inebriation.

"Because this is my job." Paige says quietly.

Mike doesn't think he will ever see anything as sexy as Paige Arkin at this moment. Her red stilettos balancing her precariously on her bar stool, her long tan legs stretching up to her skintight black dress, with his shirt and mussed hair. The perfect imprint of her lips left from her red lipstick on the whisky glass she twirls in her hand. The general aura of competence and power that emanates from her casual stance. His mouth feels dry, and for the millionth time, he fights the urge to throw her up against the wall and ravish her.

As if she's reading his mind, she turns her smoky eyes over in his direction. She sets her drink down and turns towards him, a goofy smile on her face and her eyes glazed over. She leans in, so close Mike can smell her perfume. She seemingly loses her balance in the process and her hand comes to Mike's thigh to keep herself from falling over. She giggles flirtatiously, and her words slur slightly as she says softly, "Unless, you know, I need to be just tipsy enough to do something stupid… Sometimes I just don't know my own limits..."

Her hand on his thigh seems to inch higher. She's leaning in close, and he can smell sweet scent of alcohol and mint on her breath. Her eyes are unfocused and her lips are parted in a knowing grin. Mike wets his own lips as he stares at her, suddenly feeling dizzy.

"I… um… wait… really?" Mike is having a hard time thinking as she balances herself on his thigh.

"No! I always know my limits." Paige pulls away suddenly, standing up completely straight again. She looks completely sober and mildly perturbed.

"You..." Mike is at a loss for words, which is fine because Paige keeps talking.

"...But the point is, no one else should. So I need to be able to outdrink any man in this bar, and fall over stupid drunk, but still be able to operate a firearm if need be. The point is, there are some things in Graceland that can't be learned in books. Some things that you just have to learn for yourself, and yeah the line gets blurry. You just need to be able to count on your instincts and those of the people in the field with you. You used to know that before you went to DC."

"I do trust you, Paige. Completely. But come on, some of the things going on in the house..." Mike is still trying to recover of the shock of her playing him, even for a second.

"No. This isn't a pick and choose. I am Graceland, Mike. I'm not above all this. I'm not special. You either take all of it, the good and the bad or you don't, and when you insult the house you insult me."

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you." Mike says sheepishly.

"Well you did." Paige says simply, before changing the topic. "So what's really going on with you? Did always feel this way about us, or did DC really just change you?"

"Oh, I see how it is. You get me drunk so you can interrogate me?" Mike may be drunk, but he knows Paige is crafty.

"It was either this, or use a plastic bag. Now spill." Paige laughs, and Mike can't help but grin.

"Is there even any alcohol in yours? Are you adding water?" He looks at her shot, feeling slightly more playful, but still not believing that she is outdrinking him. Just physically it should be impossible. There must be something he's missing. "You've been matching me shot for shot and you're barely tipsy."

"You think I'm cheating?" Paige switches the glasses in front of them. "Fine, take my shot."

"It hasn't been ten minutes yet." Mike looks at the shot doubtfully.

"No, but in ten minutes I'm drinking this shot, so if you want to test it do it now." Paige shrugs.

"Does that mean you'll take my shot in ten minutes?" Mike asks cautiously.

"Four minutes. And no, but it shouldn't matter to you if mine is just water." Paige's grin is a challenge to him. One he can't refuse. Keeping eye contact, Mike reaches out and takes her shot.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Mike sputters as the tequila burns his throat. "I thought you were watering them down!"

"This is nothing. This is sunday tea to the Caza Cartel. If you want to hang with the big boys you have got to learn to hold your liquor." Paige rolls her eyes. She knows if he's this affected now, that she's probably going to end up carrying his ass home tonight. "Now, spill. What's going on in that meticulous brain of yours that's got you being such an ass?"

"I just don't fit anymore. Not here, hell not anywhere." Mike looks truly miserable, and Paige feels her anger fading. She can't stay mad at him when he looks that pathetic.

"You could. You've just got to quit trying to force people to work for you and work with us." She says softly.

"I'm not sure I ever did fit. Besides you've replaced me. With '_new better Mike_'."

"It was a joke. Johnny was hurt by you leaving. He gets attached and he was overcompensating. He didn't think you'd ever be back to see it." Paige says softly. She didn't realize Mike had felt threatened by Bates. Mike had left them. He should have expected they'd have to fill his room sometime.

"You've replaced me too." Mike says pointedly.

"I don't think of Bates as your replacement." Paige rolls her eyes as she sips her beer.

"I wasn't talking about Bates." Mike says, watching her face closely for her reaction as the weight of his words sink in.

He thought when he left Graceland he could forget about her, but it is now clear that their story is not over. He doesn't want it to be. He knows he's screwed up in regards to Paige, multiple times, but he wants to fix it. He has to fix it. He just worries he's too late.

"A girl can't wait around forever…" She smiles sadly as she focuses on peeling the label on her beer bottle. She knows what he's saying, because she knows him. Better than anyone.

"Do you ever think maybe we waited too long?" Mike stares intensely at her.

"What choice was there? First there was the Abby thing, then the whole thing with Briggs and Jangles and then... then you just left." Paige can't hide the hurt in her voice. She knows Mike had to go to DC, it was the opportunity he'd always dreamed of, but she still had felt abandoned. The fact that he had come back so changed only seemed to make it worse. He's back in Graceland, and she still misses him. The old him. She knows he's in there somewhere.

"I'm back now." Mike points out.

"Yes, but now everything's different." Paige continues to fiddle with the bottle in her hand, not looking up at his prying eyes.

"This isn't different." Mike runs his fingertips over her bare wrist. The touch is innocent, but the light brush of skin sets both their pulses racing.

Mike knew coming back to Graceland he would have to deal with unfinished business with Paige. However, he wasn't expecting to be sucked back into his old feelings so strongly. It felt like he'd been caught by a riptide, and was drowning in her. Whatever he felt for her then, now seemed magnified tenfold. The heat between them was so intense his blood was on fire even in the most innocent of moments. It was hard to concentrate on his caseload in his room, when he knew she was in bed just a few doors over. He was constantly distracted and moody and it was all because of her. Just one kiss the one night, and he felt addicted. Jess had been a pleasant distraction in DC, but here it was like he'd been using a nicotine patch to treat a heroin addiction.

Paige looks down at where Mike's fingertips lightly trace patterns on her hand. She watches his clean pale fingers draw invisible patterns of magic on her tan skin. Her brain quickly scans through every possible result that would occur from her giving into her urges with Mike, as she watches him lightly manipulate each finger, his skin ghosting over hers.

"You know what else hasn't changed? You're still lost." Paige finally brings her eyes up to meet Mike's as she gently moves her hand away. "You need to find your place at Graceland again Mike, and I can't do that for you. Yes, it's not the same, but that doesn't mean it's bad. You just need to find a new way to fit."

"No one seems to want me here, Paige."

"Do _you_ want to be here, Mike? Because lately it doesn't feel like it." Paige asks, frustrated with the entire situation. She wants Mike, she does, but she doesn't want to become attached to someone who will just leave again.

Mike looks up at the ceiling frustrated. She always seems to know how to cut right through him and ask the questions he doesn't have answers to.

"I don't know what I want." He finally says, "But I know I'm tired of waiting, Paige."

His eyes lock with hers, as he silently implores her to take this leap. He's baring his heart and every insecurity he has to her, and all it took to get him here was half a bottle of tequila. He's leaning in, the liquor making him brave. He doesn't care that he's in a dirty bar. He doesn't care that she has a boyfriend or about how Jess would react or how it might affect his job. He doesn't care about anything or anyone except for her. This thing between them is the only thing that feels real in his life anymore, the only thing he knows he wants. His hand comes up to her hair, and he brushes a stray strand out of her face. Her eyes stare back at him and then lower.

"That's another ten. Shot." Paige says, breaking the moment, and slamming back a shot herself. Mike, feeling defeated, grabs the small glass and tilts his head back.


	3. Drunk

Author's Note: Deadline met! Finished before the second episode. Feeling mighty proud. Not that I'll get to watch the episode tonight, because the theater world has taken over my life, but I hope you all enjoy it!

-J

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Mike awakes in agony.

He may be dying. He has never felt such pain. He longs for the good old days when the cartels just used plastic bags or hot led, because he wishes he were dead. He must be being tortured. This is the only reasonable explanation Mike can find in his mushed brain for why this is happening to him. He must have been kidnapped last night and is now being tortured. The brightest light he's ever seen, that is burning through his closed eye lids. He can literally feel each molecule of hair in his head pulling on his skin and the blood throbbing through his temples.

How long has been unconscious for? The last thing he remembers is being in some parking lot of a dirty bar with Paige and... oh.

This is not the doing of some gang of thugs. This damage is all due to a bottle of tequila and _her_... That damn crafty lush of a minx nearly killed him with nothing more than a smile and a bottle of tequila. Mike hasn't been this hungover in... who's he kidding? Mike has NEVER been this hungover. He didn't know this was possible.

The sunlight continues to burn through his closed eyelids and he groans and pulls the soft comforter up over his head, to attempt to block it out, but somehow the sunlight manages to filter even through that. He groans in pain. He hates the sun and everything about it. He reaches for his curtains when he realizes they aren't where they're supposed to be. This gets his attention quickly and his eyes fly open.

Looking around he realizes this is not his bed.

The purple walls can only mean one thing.

He's in Paige's bed.

He's in Paige's bed, and he has no memory of how he got here. His brain has blacked out most of the relevant information of the previous night and he tries to process as much about the current situation as possible. He's in Paige's bed. He's in only his underwear. His entire body hurts.

"Fuck…" He hisses out between clenched teeth.

He can't remember most of last night. He remembers coming home to find all of his furniture gone, carefully reconstructed on the roof. He remembers punching Johnny in the face and the brawl that broke out in the living room. He remembers Paige dragging him to some hole in the wall of a bar but after that the night gets blurry. He remembers things getting flirty, and him being way too honest with his feelings, but he has no idea how he got home. Or how he ended up mostly naked in her bed.

Mike lies there struggling to think, but memories of the night are simply not there. He tries to focus on what he does know. Last night both him and Paige drank more than he ever has in his life, and now he's in her bed in just his underwear.

Mike tries to figure out how he feels about this new situation. It's unprofessional to be sure, and he knows this breaks the rules. He's been trying so hard not to fall back into bad habits at Graceland, but at the same time he can't say he doesn't want this. He's been attracted to Paige from the second he laid eyes on her, and even though she has a boyfriend Mike knows she wants him too.

Was this just a one night thing between them, or would she want something more? Did Mike want something more? He was technically dating Jess, though they hadn't set any strict rules on the relationship, he was sure she wouldn't like sharing him. Jess was in DC and did great things for his professional life. She had connections he could only dream of getting in DC. Paige was great, but if he was only here for a few more weeks, was it worth screwing up his career?

At the same time, it was Paige... She was special. She made him feel things he never knew he could. At the same time, those same feelings were a distraction for Mike. They could get him in trouble. They were both professionals and Mike loved... no not loved, _liked_. Mike _liked_ that about her. Paige wouldn't want some silly romantic fling to come in the way of her work. She was the one who always told him you couldn't get too close.

Yet Mike knew he was probably to close already, and whether she admitted it or not, so was she. Mike knew Paige almost as well as she knew him. And Mike knew she cared for him. If Mike wasn't sure about how this would turn out, how could he lead her on and hurt her? It was probably best just to walk away.

It was a little too late for that though, because he was already in her bed. He couldn't just sneak out after last night. She'd hunt him down and kill him. No he needed to approach this tactfully, like an adult. He would just face her and explain last night was a mistake, and the two of them couldn't let their guard down again. She would probably be a little hurt, but he was sure she'd agree.

He takes a deep breath and rolls over to face her, but is surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. Paige never wakes up before Mike. Jesus, how much did he drink last night? With a groan he forces himself to get up. His head feels like it might fall off his shoulders. He grabs the advil sitting out on her nightstand and swallows it dry. He forces himself to shuffle like a zombie down the halls, bumping into things as he goes. He's glad no one is there to witness him as he makes his way down to the kitchen. The halls are quiet. Everyone has already gotten up and left for the day. Yet Mike hears someone singing softly in the kitchen.

He turns the corner and Mike stops in his tracks when he sees Paige standing there, preparing food at the counter. The pounding in his head is suddenly drowned out by the pounding in his heart.

There, drenched in the sunlight Mike dispised so much before she stands barefoot and smiling. Her long tan legs are bare and her hair is haphazardly shining gold in the sun. She appears to be wearing nothing, but a smile and Mike's shirt.

The pain in his head suddenly doesn't feel as intense anymore. It's still there but, hardly seems important. The sun is shining in, and Paige is standing there barefoot in Mike's shirt.

Seeing her in his shirt, reminds him he's not wearing one. Or pants. Which is inconvenient, because _Paige is standing there in Mike's shirt,_ and there is no man on earth who would not react to that.

He stands there and stares as she pops a piece of fruit in her mouth with a smile, seeming full of energy and light. While Mike is struggling to stand.

"Hey you!" She chirps, looking up only momentarily before going back to cooking. "How are you feeling? I'm surprised-"

Before Paige can finish talking, Mike truly surprises her. He spins her around and presses his lips firmly to hers. She lets out a surprised squeak, but his soft insistent lips muffle it as she's pressed back against the counter. He kisses her deeply and slowly, feeling all the complications in his brain turn off. This feels right. This feels perfect. His hands come up and tangle in her hair, and he can feel her nails against his back. He tastes the remainder of strawberry on her tongue as he cradles her face in his hands, kissing her softly, but insistently.

He pulls away after a moment to catch his breath, and stares down through lowered lids at her surprised eyes.

"I don't remember exactly what happened last night." Mike murmers, "But I'm not sorry it did. I know it's inconvenient but I've wanted this for so long, and now that it's happened I don't want it to be a one time thing, Paige."

"Mike…" She whispers softly, and he leans in to kiss her again. This time she puts a hand on his chest to stop him. "Mike... Nothing happened."

Mike's heart drops. He's having trouble even comprehending what she's just said. The pounding in his head is back, and louder. He may get sick.

She continues to explain, but he's not really hearing anything other than his migraine screaming at him. "We got home and all your furniture was still on the roof. So I put you in my bed. I spent the night at Kyle's."

"Kyle's..." Mike repeats woodenly. Kyle. Her boyfriend. Shit.

"Yes. You were really drunk. You got sick in the parking lot. I helped you change out of your clothes and put you to bed. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made you take so many shots. This is all my fault..."

"So you and I…" Mike tries to clarify. He's having trouble getting over the fact that nothing happened last night. NOTHING? They were alone and drunk together and nothing happened. It doesn't seem possible.

"We didn't… Nothing happened. We drank beers, took some shots, called a cab and came home." Paige explains softly, seemingly embarrassed for Mike.

"Sorry… I guess I'm still a little drunk." Mike mutters weakly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think-"

"No, you did nothing wrong. I'm going to go lie down somewhere." Mike feels like he might be sick. He can't process this.

"Mike…" Paige does not want to end things like this. Not that things ever began, but she wants to deal with this before it gets too awkward. She cares about Mike. She doesn't want this misunderstanding to get in the way of their relationship. Their _friendship_.

"Paige don't worry about it. My mistake. Forget it. Seriously. I probably will." Mike turns his back to her and steadies himself against the wall. He can't look at her right now. "You're right my alcohol tolerance sucks."

"Mike, please." Paige begs.

"Paige it's fine. Really. Sorry, my head is pounding. I need to lie down." Mike groans at the memory of his bed being on the roof. He doesn't want to lie on the couch in public domain. Maybe he can just pass out in the community closet or the phone room.

"Here. Potassium will help." Paige hands him her cup of orange juice and a banana.

Mike takes them sheepishly from her, and turns to head back to find somewhere to lie down and hopefully to just die there. He doesn't know if he has ever felt worst in his life.

Mike is staring at the stairs like they're his Everest. The only thing that will get him up those stairs is his humiliation and his desire to just be alone.

"I'm breaking up with Kyle." Paige blurts out before Mike can get to the stairs.

"What?" Mike turns around, not sure he heard her correctly.

"Not to be with you." Paige says quickly, "But you said some things last night and you're right. I've gotten too close, and things around here have gotten a little lax. You're not entirely wrong. We could all do better at following the rules."

"Well for what it's worth, someone once told me that breaking a few rules is good… You just, you gotta know which rules to break." Mike says giving her a weak smile. Somehow, even if it's not what he wanted, the knowledge that she's breaking up with Kyle gives him hope. The sunlight is somehow not quite as burning his skin.

"Sounds like a pretty amazing person." She grins at him.

"You have no idea." Mike says softly. The two share an intimate moment and Mike silently wonders if they will ever get the timing right.

"Are we ok?" She asks shyly.

"Yeah, we're ok." Mike says honestly. "Do you mind…? My bed's still on the roof."

"Of course! Use my bed. You're fine. Stay there as long as you need to. I won't even be home." Paige replies, and Mike feels a little awkward, but grateful. He just needs to lie down for a bit. This really is the worst hangover he's ever had, he doesn't know how Paige is still standing.

Mike goes up and sits on Paige's bed alone, forcing down some of the banana and the OJ before lying down. He wraps her cool sheets around him, and tries to ignore the scent of her clean perfume that envelopes him. Despite his exhaustion, he doesn't sleep. He just lays there, eyes closed and replays what an idiot he was in the kitchen. Eventually after what feels like hours, he drifts off into a restless slumber.

He wakes when he feels the bed next to him shift. He looks over and there is Paige sitting on the other edge, wiping away running mascara with a kleenex.

"Hey... what's wrong? You ok?" Mike instantly sits up, and his head spins as he does so. He's feeling a little better, than earlier, but he is still incredibly hungover.

"I broke up with him. He's such a good guy. What's wrong with me?" Paige stifles a sob, obviously miserable.

"Nothing. You did the right thing." Mike feels conflicted.

He feels like a hypocrite because even as he comforts her, he feels relief. He can't help but feel glad, almost giddy, Paige is single, but on the other hand he hates to see her hurting, which she obviously is. The fact that this man deserves her tears makes Mike bristle. He's jealous of anyone who Paige would care that much about.

"I know but I feel horrible. I just want to stay in bed and die." Paige groans, getting into the bed beside him and pulling the covers up over her head.

"Do you need me to go? I'm feeling a little better." Mike quietly asks the girl who's bed he's occupying. He's at least feeling good enough he can go lie on the couch if she wants to be alone.

"No." She reaches her arm back without looking and stops him from getting up. "Stay with me... Just don't talk."

"Ok." Mike settles back into the bed beside her. He wraps an arm around her, spooning her protectively to his chest.

The two lie together in silence until they both fall asleep. Both are hurting, but both feel a little less miserable in each other's company.


End file.
